The Alphabet Series
by Touda
Summary: This will be a collection of 26 separate stories above drabble length, each focusing on a different pairing and theme word. Rating may change, but most will be worksafe.
1. Allegiance

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or any of its characters. Nor do I own the alphabet.

Warnings: Yaoi, language, violence. You know, the usual. Especially when dealing with Ichimaru and Aizen. Possible spoilers for the arrancar arc.

Pairing(s): AizenGin

Notes: This story was inspired by the letter A. -laughs- No seriously, it's the first fic in my Alphabet Series. Yes, I know every author's done this before, but my stories won't be simple drabbles. They'll be one-shots, but their length will be much greater than that of a normal drabble. They will be chaptered under this title so I don't end up with 26 different stories, on top of my already growing fic count. Each fic will be based around a single word that begins with the fic's corresponding letter. They will all be separate from each other and will not coincide with any of my past fics or future 'Alphabet Series' installations.

A is for: "Allegiance"

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If nothing else, Ichimaru Gin was brave.

He had survived poverty on the streets of Rukongai and discrimination due to his pale skin and garnet eyes. He had worked hard to make it into the shinigami academy and again, dealt with ignorant students and fellow teammates who admonished him for his odd behaviour and Kansai accent. Only Matsumoto Rangiku made him happy, at least to the point where he could smile of his own volition and not act like he was masking his feelings.

Year after year he tolerated the others' rude comments and eventually became something; an animal on the bottom of the totem pole, a rung at the bottom of the ladder. Nevertheless, he was a formal shinigami by that time, dressed in Seireitei's finest uniform cloth with his adjutant badge proudly displayed around his left bicep. He smiled warmly at his captain as he stepped into the man's neat office and as he reflected on his past, in the depths of Las Noches, he remembered the smile all too well.

It had been the last genuine smile he had ever given. He could not honestly remember a time after that, when he had smiled from the heart. When he had actually meant it. Giving a short sniffle into his overly long white sleeves, the shinigami-turned-renegade got to his feet and brushed the dust off of his clothes. Dust everywhere. In his tabi, his bedsheets, his hair. He loathed the desert that surrounded the great palace and wished for a cool, quiet oasis he could soak himself in, someplace free of sand and dust and hollows masquerading as people.

"You look upset about something, Ginyanote." Came a smooth voice from the doorway, another thing the silver haired former captain hated. The palace had no doors on the main rooms, only shoji screens on the private quarters. "Melancholy even. Care to explain yourself?"

The young shinigami lifted his face to meet the gaze of his former taichou, Aizen's hands buried deep in his sleeves as he was so oft to do while walking the halls of his beloved home. Ichimaru saw nothing but contempt in the man's chocolate gaze and he wisely kept his comments to himself, happy to be by Aizen's side but angry to have left everything he held dear behind in Soul Society.

"I'm just kinda lonely, Sousuke." He conceded. "I need somethin' else to do, 'sides sittin' around waitin' for your war to start."

His words were acidic even though he hadn't meant them to be and the stronger shinigami scowled at him, stepping close enough to grip the slimmer man by the chin, forcing him to open his eyes properly and stare incredulously.

"S..Sousuke?"

"Respect and obedience, Gin. That's all I ask of you. Not even Kaname gets that much."

Ichimaru snorted softly, wriggling his head from his lover's grasp and rubbing at his chin, certain that it would bruise come morning.

"Naa, Kana-chan's not worth as much as I am. I've got more social standin' than he does."

Aizen moved forward again and this time silenced his beloved companion with a deep kiss, listening to each tiny whimper the smaller man gave. He used to feed on Ichimaru's sounds, gorge himself on the tiny cries he uttered during their sessions. Now, he caused them only to prove to himself that he wasn't above enjoying them on occasion.

"You're very precious to me, Ginyanote. Let nothing endanger that."

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A tuft of turquoise hair caught Ichimaru's attention as he was walking through the halls of Aizen's spacious palace, taking a moment to peer into the private room as he heard its owner grunt with obvious exertion. The slim shinigami grinned broadly and boldly shoved the shoji screen aside, stepping in as if he were the sole occupant of the rather large living area.

The telltale sensation of more than one reiatsu struck the young captain and he smirked in the second person's direction, earning himself a scowl.

"I believe Aizen-sama ordered you to knock first, before entering a private room, Ichimaru-sama." Ulquiorra announced.

Gin's smile faded somewhat, soured by the small Espada's arrogant attitude. "Sousuke also said that ya can't act so high on the totem pole, Ulquiorra-kun. Ya remember what happened to Grimmjow, ne?"

The dark haired arrancar, sufficiently silenced, turned away from the confronting shinigami and got to his feet, stepping away from his comrade and leaving him to fend for himself, his duties finished for the time being. He secretly loathed the light haired former captain and was all too eager to get out of his way.

"Forgive me, Ichimaru-sama." he spoke quietly, before bowing curtly and leaving the room, slamming the screen behind him.

Gin stared down at the fallen Espada with a smile of contempt, eying his missing limb and purposely nudging the bandaged shoulder with his foot, tolerating the man's squeal of pain long enough to actually enjoy the sound. Sharp aqua eyes glared through tears borne of pain and despite his obvious handicap, Grimmjow shifted to a sitting position. Hours before, Ulquiorra had been given a task by the arrancar lord, ordered to keep an eye on the taller man and watch for self mutilating behaviour or depression of any kind. Though the young Espada doubted that his companion would hurt himself intentionally, he did not doubt the existence of depression, even amongst such senseless and boorish creatures.

"You fox-faced bastard..." He growled. "Aizen never gave ya permission to do this kinda shit, ya know."

Shinsou's master only tilted his head off to one side and grinned with frightening contempt, his reiatsu almost a noticeable presence in the sparse but extremely neat quarters.

"Yaa, Sousuke's not as bad as ya let on. He's nice enough to keep ya alive after all ya did, ne?"

That shut the larger man up. He scowled darkly and attempted getting to his feet, finding it much harder than he had previously thought, only barely managing after Ichimaru had backed up a bit. He stood tall, scratching at the middle of his chest with his good hand, the bandages crossing his upper half like gaudy white scars. His zanpakutou sat unused on the coffee table and angrily, he noticed that Gin stood between it and himself.

"Ya can't touch me, ya useless fuck. I don't care what Aizen's got to say in your defense. You're worthless to me."

Gin was upon him before he knew what to do, merely standing before him but viciously gripping the bloodied stump of Grimmjow's former left arm, digging his fingernails into the ruined flesh through the light gauze, drinking in the pained cry the younger man gave and the shivers of absolute anger that recoiled through his muscled form. The silver haired taichou leaned in too close for the other's tastes and licked his ear, tightening his hold for a brief second before letting go and pulling away to turn his back, aware of how disgusted the arrancar was with him.

"The only reason you're livin' at all is because Sousuke loves confrontation."

"The fuck ya talkin' 'bout?"

"Are ya loyal to him, Grimmjow?" Gin asked innocently. "Would ya willingly die for him?"

The gruff arrancar snorted out loud and flipped the captain off, turning on his heel and heading towards the outer corridor, leaving the screen open as he exited and began padding down the hardwood hall.

"Yeah, 'course I'm fuckin' loyal to him. He's our lord, ain't he?" His voice carried back into the room. "How 'bout yourself?"

Gin's smile disappeared completely as he left the room as well, just catching the tail end of the sixth Espada as he rounded the far corner and disappeared for the time being. Was he truly loyal to Aizen? Ichimaru's mind doubted that he was. Then again, the young shinigami doubted his own loyalty, especially after seeing the brave but arrogant creature nearly killed for a weak infraction.

Was his allegiance so strong that he could consider himself loyal? At times, he doubted his own loyalty, though his love for the brilliant brunet overshadowed almost any doubts he may have had. If nothing else, as he was told once by his beloved, he was brave. He could stick it out in Aizen's kingdom. Sure he could.


	2. Booze, Boobs and Bar Brawls

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or any of its characters.

Warnings: Alcoholism, language, general eleventh division behaviour of the worst kind, a little short (just above drabble length at 1200 words).

Pairing: Slight RenjiKira

Notes: Here is part two of my Alphabet Series and it will be the only one with a phrase as its 'theme word', as opposed to a single word. This story was inspired by my brother, who cosplays a wickedly awesome Zaraki Kenpachi, four bottles of good table sake and a weekend spent in the company of two friends, who now believe the word Jenga (as in the table game where you stack wooden blocks and try not to topple them) means 'boobs' in another language.

B is for: Booze, Boobs and Bar Brawls

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A little bit of peace was all the bartender wanted. Had Ayasegawa Yumichika been in the establishment, he might have had it, but due to the fifth seat's refusal to drink with 'that mopey blond', referring to Kira, he opted to remain in the division barracks, preening for nothing in particular.

At the small bar in Rukongai that Renji, Kira and Ikkaku frequented in the past, sat the three men again, this time joined by Zaraki Kenpachi and Matsumoto Rangiku. Before them, at what had once been an immaculately clean wooden table, were no less than a dozen empty sake bottles and small puddles of spilled booze.

Ikkaku, cheered by the sight of the barmaid returning with more full bottles, slapped Renji on the back, causing the redhead to spill his sake and earning a feral growl from the lithesome form.

"Ya fuckin' bastard! Ya want me to slap ya on the back when_ you're_ tryin' to take a drink? Wise up, asshole."

The bald shinigami pulled his left hand back and viciously punched the other in the shoulder, cheerfully downing another cup of the sweet wine and slamming the ceramic item onto the now-soiled tabletop. Matsumoto, beyond her limit and still enjoying herself, slapped her thigh and happily belched into the already dirty bar air, claiming the noise to be her own with a little shout of success.

"Lighten up, Renji! Just have another!"

Beside the threesome Kira sat silently, sipping his wine with tired looking eyes and occasionally glancing over to the massive captain to his right. Zaraki usually enjoyed his booze quietly and tonight was no different, though he kept a rather watchful eye on his third seat, as if the man were under surveillance even while off duty. The bald man grinned stupidly, earning himself an eye roll and a rather rude living world gesture that involved a single finger.

To Kira it was a normal evening out with his friends but it was slowly getting to the point of no return, the point when the eleventh captain began hauling off on people for the hell of it and when Matsumoto began her rant on men and their slovenly behaviour. She loved being 'one of the guys', but due to her enormous assets, she sometimes found it hard to blend in. One man in particular, her beloved little Kira (whom she adopted as her own companion after her captain refused to drink with her anymore), stared at the low-cut black uniform, sneaking peeks when he thought the strawberry blonde wasn't looking.

"Oi, Kira! Can you stop looking at me like that? You're turning into one of them!" She gestured toward the rest of their troupe, who all turned their heads and gave questioning looks. Ikkaku looked especially hurt.

"What're ya fuckin' on about, Ran?"

"You three! How long did it take you to stop looking down my top when you first met me?"

The third seat snorted and slammed his cup down again, refilling it as he spoke, wildly gesturing with the now filled cup and spilling it onto Renji, who promptly slapped Ikkaku's bald head with a little grunt.

"Once I realized ya drank like the rest of us." He said matter-of-factly, through the stinging ache of his most recent smack.

"Yeah, Ran. Ya got a nice set but ya ain't what I'm after." Renji cautioned. "You're missin' vital parts for any real fun."

That shut her up. She looked to each man and then down at her breasts, giving them a loving little squeeze and then leaving them alone, occasionally dribbling the sweet sake down between them, ignorant to

Another bottle quickly disappeared as Kira snatched it from the tabletop, pouring himself a heavy draught and then handing it off to the once again oblivious tenth fukutaichou. The young blond couldn't help but notice a hand sneaking its way onto his thigh, absolutely positive that it didn't belong to the busty woman beside him. He swiped at it with his empty hand and heard a very manly snort of irritation from behind him, a heavy reiatsu suddenly weighing down the entire room as Zaraki stood up a blush noticeable on Renji's cheeks that couldn't have possibly been from the booze.

"All ya fucks're disgustin', ya ask me." He growled. "None of ya, the guys anyway, have any balls when it comes to women. Ya gotta be forward with 'em. None of this prancin' around like ya gotta sugar coat shit."

Neither of the remaining men knew what the hell the overly large captain was trying to tell them and their faces said as much, even Rangiku's face was blank. The spiky-haired swordsman rolled his eyes again and reached out a hand, sneaking it past Kira to cheekily grab Matsumoto's left breast, earning himself a squeal, a punch to the gut and a half empty bottle of sake smashed against his forehead. The bar instantly became quiet and spirit energy flared, obviously from the other patrons and their anger over the large captain's audacity to openly molest a pretty girl and his companions' refusal to either help her or tell Zaraki off.

He stood there above them, with a stupid but scary smile on his face, a trickle of blood pouring from a cut above his eyebrow and his guts aching somewhat from the punch the flame-haired woman gave him. Ikkaku immediately broke into peals of laughter, while Kira stammered to Renji about how awful the situation must be for Matsumoto-san, her private area touched by such an uncouth, horrid man. The pony tailed fukutaichou only patted the blond on the back and refilled his glass, leaning over to whisper something into his ear, causing the boy to blush brightly.

Kenpachi snorted again and cuffed Renji up the back of the head before walking away, tossing a few paper bills onto the table for his drinks and leaving without much ado, purposely hollering loud enough so that the bar could hear what he had to say, as well as the men he had intended the words of advice for. The growing reiatsu in the room suggested impending doom but the shinigami didn't seem to notice until Zaraki was almost out of sight, the sound of scraping chairs and clinked glasses around them obviously indicating that the other patrons were getting up and were coming closer to their table.

"Ya got three things to look forward to in life." He stated simply, waiting just inside the door and walking off afterwards.

"Booze, which ya got tonight but ya won't remember havin' tomorrow; boobs, which are fun to play with but which cause most of life's headaches; and bar brawls, like the one you're gonna be part of after I close this door."


	3. Companionship

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or any of its characters. They belong to Kubo Tite and what a lucky man he is.

Warnings: Slight shounen-ai, alcohol abuse, general depraved humour of the Kyouraku variety, lengthy chapter despite promises of non-lengthy chapters. -laughs-

Pairing: KyourakuUkitake and possible, barely there, can't even call it a true pairing AizenUrahara

Notes: This is letter C of my series, based upon the relationship between Kyouraku Shunsui and Ukitake Jyuushirou during their academy days. Since there's been little information about these years, I've taken creative liberties but nothing too far fetched. It's assumed that Kyouraku, Ukitake, Aizen and Urahara were in or around each others' academy year, noted by the long sleeves on their white haori. Only the first years, or those within a few centuries of each other, had this distinction. The newer captains, Byakuya, Ichimaru et al, received haoris with the sleeves removed. The reason is never discussed but personally, I assume it to be for simple design sake and ease of movement during battle. That, and why would they need more hot material on in a world where it's always kinda warm and dusty?

"C is for Companionship"

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Though the shinigami academy had only been operating for a few years, a few dozen as far as Shunsui could remember, there had been major renovations already, including the addition of four new dormitories and a training yard. The brunet student chuckled at his fair-haired friend as they padded from their shared quarters to the outdoor arena, watching with bright eyes as Ukitake tripped over his hakama for the third time since putting them on less than an hour prior.

"Naa, Jyuu-chan," He prodded gently. "What's the matter?"

Tired chocolate orbs peered at the taller man with something akin to contempt as the noble youth hefted the long pants up at the sides and walked more quickly, intent on getting outside before he made a complete fool of himself.

"They're far too long, Shun. The woman who runs the uniform dispensary said she would find me a shorter pair, but after the opening ceremonies, I have to tolerate this until tomorrow at the earliest."

A long, broad arm wound itself around the younger man's shoulders and he smiled at it, only from the corner of his mouth, so the other man could see it and it would be a secret between them. Other students of their class, all skilled men and women of their own right, meandered across the heavily grass-carpeted field and assembled before the large podium set up under the academy's outdoor shelter. The cobblestone square was used for small performances and general assemblies regarding graduation or the Captain Commander's addresses to the students.

That morning was the induction of new students to the first year course and out of courtesy, all of the elder students gathered to welcome the new recruits. Ukitake took a seat on the warm grass beside Kyouraku and carefully folded his legs, tucking the excess hakama material under himself with a little huff, earning a chuckle from over his left shoulder. He turned to see who it was and he smiled broadly, more so than the tiny grin he had given to Shunsui earlier.

"Sousuke! I didn't expect to see you here! Sit, please!"

He motioned to the empty space on his other side and he turned slightly to speak to the other brunet, pleased that his other long-time companion had decided to join them. The man wore glasses now, a change the white haired man hadn't noticed before, but he still seemed like the same man Ukitake had remembered from their first meeting on the day they were inducted into the academy.

"It's certainly warm today, isn't it?" He asked quietly, nodding to Shunsui when the man gave him a bored look. "Yamamoto Genryuusai-dono picks the warmest of days on purpose, to see who among us is loyal enough to brave the heat and be present for his address."

At this, Ukitake laughed, a sound that turned heads, most of the other students smiling along with the trio, though more than a few seemed as genuinely bored as Kyouraku was. The Captain Commander, a man whose age was unknown and who had more than likely spoken at more than a thousand gatherings, tended to drone on during the hottest time of the day and eventually petered out when the sun began to dwindle and the cooler air blew into the arena.

"Shunsui and I were asked to come because we're in our final year. What brought you out, Sousuke?"

"Entertainment," He stated simply. "Kisuke was very adamant about going into Rukongai afterwards for a few drinks. You know how he is when sake is the prize for a good days' work. Would you two care to join us?"

"Yaa, they want to come with us right now, Sou!"

The trio turned their heads to see their blond counterpart walking across the grass in proper uniform, his feet bare instead of in tabi and sandals. He stopped in front of his friends and wriggled his toes in the warm but soft grass, smiling brightly despite his obviously disheveled state.

"Kisuke, where have you been? Sousuke said he came because of you."

Ukitake, ever vigilant and curious by nature, looked from one man to the other, ignoring Kyouraku as the larger man's hands wound themselves around his waist, attempting to pull him into his lap. He struggled slightly and gave one of the hands a firm little slap, causing the brunet to chuckle and cease his encroachment.

"I was ready to show up, but the temperature changed and I had to leave my socks and shoes behind. I love feeling the grass between my toes when it's nice and warm!"

Two female students in front of the group turned to hush them up, turning back towards the podium as the aged shinigami leader took his place for his welcome speech, each student already in the audience sitting down respectfully. Jyuushirou allowed Shunsui to replace his arms around his middle, shifting slightly to lay back against him as they listened to the elderly swordsman, occasionally turning his head to watch Aizen and Urahara converse. They spoke in hushed tones but most of the conversation was about their plans for later.

The bespectacled student caught him looking once and smiled at him, embarrassing the nobleman, a light blush creeping into his cheeks as he turned away again and rested his head against Kyouraku's chest. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift off, tired from a night of absolutely taboo lovemaking with the larger man. It was still a secret from the high ranking academy members and most of his friends and family, but between the four friends, it was common enough knowledge that he had little to worry about as long as they kept the relationship discreet.

"Oi, Jyuu-chan," The ponytailed student whispered, giving his lap-warmer a little shake. "Wake up, it's over."

The brown eyed man groaned and gave a whole body stretch, slowly getting to his feet and perring around him, the field nearly devoid of life, besides themselves.

"Where are Sousuke and Kisuke?"

"Gone to get changed. Sousuke said to do the same and then meet them by the West Gate."

Ukitake nodded and started back toward the dorms, lifting the hem of his pants again and shiffling quickly to get back to their room, the clothes immediately coming off with a great sigh. He stood in his bedroom with only his underwear, the traditional garment hiding only his front as Shunsui whistled at the view from the doorway. The younger man turned and glared daggers at him, snatching up a comfortable yukata and throwing it around himself, waiting patiently while Kyouraku walked off. He tied the obi securely and found a light pair of sandals to slip into once they stepped out into the corridor.

He stared at his friend's choice of yukata, a light brown that resembled the sand in the streets, and his waraji without socks. Overtop of the gloomy colour he wore a candy pink kimono on his shoulders, its brightly embroidered pattern jumping out at the white haired student. He had never seen such a gaudy colour before and he rolled his eyes, squeaking out loud when the larger man smacked his rump for good measure.

"It was a gift from a girl in the second year class, Jyuu-chan. You don't have to worry about her stealing my heart though. It belongs to you entirely."

Ukitake blushed again and huffed as he gained the main doorway and stepped out into the dusty street, waving curtly to the other two men already waiting for them. Both were in traditional summer attire, Sousuke in shades of blue and Kisuke in green.

"Grey is a good colour on you, Jyuushirou," Aizen commented. "It brings out the delicate paleness of your hair and skin."

The younger man nodded his thanks and they set off, avoiding the menial chatter that they would only break into once well lubricated with sake in less than a few minutes' time. Ukitake was loathe to open anything for small-talk as his health would no doubt be the topic of discussion. He had broken into coughing fits in front of the other three students in weeks past and after extensive tests and visits to the fourth division's captain, the woman had diagnosed the nobleman with tuberculosis, a disease that inveritably killed its host. Due to the lengthened lifespan of those living in Soul Society, Ukitake was never given a timeline as to when he would succumb to its affects, but it would haunt him for the rest of his life regardless.

He had told Shunsui that very day and despite the description Unohana-taichou had given him regarding the end stages of the illness, Kyouraku had agreed to stay by his companion's side right up until the end. They made a promise that night and after consummating the agreement, Ukitake felt better about it. It was still too fresh in his mind to bring up again but due to Aizen's powers of deduction and Urahara's notable curiosity and methods of finding things out that were secret from everyone else, the other two men had heard the gist of it but refrained from bringing it up out of courtesy.

After what seemed like ages to the pale haired student, they passed through the West Gate and arrived at the bar they frequented. They were greeted at the door by the kind gentleman who owned the establishment, his wife cheerfully heading into the back room to prepare sweets for the group. Ukitake especially, had a fondness for anything remotely sweet and during their nights out, he preferred dango and anything gelatinized with a fruit flavour.

They sat at a corner table and the owner turned bartender smiled at them while he sat down four bottles of his best sake and four cups, knowing that before the night was out, they would have finished twice the amount but they liked to pace themselves. His wife returned with a platter filled with handmade treats, offering each man a small plate to rest them on and a brilliant smile that turned into a flustered blush as Kyouraku leaned over to whisper something racy into her ear. The woman giggled and walked away, after catching the sour look Ukitake was giving his occasional lover.

"You're a beast, Shun. I heard what you said to her."

"Oh?" The larger man shifted his chair so he could sit directly beside the other, winding an arm around him possessively andgiving him a light peck on the cheek, emboldened by the fact that the bar was empty except for their small party. "I told you that my heart belongs to you, Jyuu-chan."

"'You're the most beautiful flower in this dusty place.'? Sounds like my place has been usurped."

Kyouraku leaned to the side and poured himself a cup of the sweet sake, downing it in one gulp and grimacing as it cramped his tastebuds, licking his lips before nuzzling into Ukitake's soft hair.

"She's a very beautiful woman, Jyuuchirou, but you're the prettiest man I know. In my world, there's a difference only in how a man loves a man, as opposed to how a man loves a woman."

Aizen and Urahara kept silent as they listened to the conversation, embarrassing the youngest amongst them because he knew they were being listened to. Kisuke poured drinks for the both of them and sipped his quietly, sitting back in his chair and tipping onto the back legs, rocking enough to make the item creak with each movement. If the night proceeded as usual, he would end up on his backside with a chortling comrade beside him, the other man's foot conveniently propped behind the tipped chair.

"How does it differ, Shun?" The nobleman asked.

"She looks breakable. I know you don't break, Jyuu-chan."

Ukitake suddenly elbowed the other in the gut playfully but enough to hurt him slightly, shifting his chair away and pouring himself a drink, calmly sipping it while mentally planning revenge on his perverted roommate. The kimono-toting student only chuckled and went about getting drunk as usual, downing the rest of his bottle in a matter of minutes and waving to the owner for another, leaving the other three men in the dust with his drinking skills.

Closing time came and went and after peeling Kyouraku from the tabletop where he had laid his head down for 'just a little nap', Kisuke and Urahara handed him off to Ukitake and wished him a goodnight, heading to their own dorm as the other went inside, half carrying, half dragging his larger counterpart back to their room and depositing him in his bed. Shunsui was undressed and tucked in as lovingly as possible and Ukitake retired to his own room for the night, laying awake for most of the few remaining hours of darkness, listening to his companion's snores to gauge whether or not he was actually sleeping.

After creeping to the window and setting himself up on the long divan he kept for just that purpose, he looked out the window with a tiny smile, the affects of the sake making him sleepy but still keeping him awake enough to actually think properly.

He enjoyed his nights out with his friends. He loved how tight their friendship was. He only wished they could all graduate together and become shinigami alongside each other. As the Captain Commander's first class, they would be strong and valiant.

Regardless of their possible rank in the future, Ukitake wallowed in wishful thinking, hoping that they would remain friends to the end.


	4. Deceit

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or any of its characters. Kthnxbai

Warnings: Mind fuckage, general Ichimaru-esque behaviour, possible spoilers for those watching the English dub and those who haven't seen the entirety of the Soul Society arc.

Pairing(s): Mild GinKira

Notes: Ok, so we've reached the letter D! Hopefully I've still got people interested in this series and they're still madly drooling as they wait for my updates. -laughs- Yeah, right. Easy Touda...no letting your head get too big...

"D is for Deceit"

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Between friends, one could only assume that small secrets and devious little lies were passed. Between captains and their vice captains, it was a generalization that secrets were kept from the higher ranking officer simply out of shame and self preservation. In Kira Izuru's case, his secrets were based upon his captain and they were told to his friends with the knowledge that they would become rumours and would circulate throughout Seireitei.

In the third division barracks, Wabisuke's master groaned as he rolled onto his side, his back scratched all over from his captain's sharp nails and his backside sore from the previous night's adventures. He furrowed his brow and turned his head to peer at the sun streaming in through his half-curtained window, scowling at it and its obvious cheerfulness.

"How come you can wake so early and be so happy without wanting to crawl back into bed?" He asked the unanswering sun sourly. "Why am I talking to sunshine?"

He sighed out loud and got up for the day, donning his uniform and carefully brushing his hair back into its usual style, slicking his bangs with a bit of the gel hair product Rangiku always brought back for him. His zanpakutou safely tucked into his obi, the young fukutaichou ventured out into the glaringly bright morning, keeping his head down slightly as he walked to the squad house's main office. He heard his captain humming within and smiled to himself for a brief second before wiping it off of his face and announcing his presence with a light knock, entering only after Ichimaru stopped humming and gave him the okay.

Inside, the silver-haired shinigami looked up from his comfortable spot, lounging on the office's wide divan, one arm tossed over his head while the other toyed with the loops in his obi.

"You're late, Izuru, Ya got anythin' to say for yourself?" His voice was teasing but Kira still worried suddenly.

"I don't, Ichimaru-taichou. I slept in, is all."

The slim swordsman got to his feet and wafted over to his subordinate's side, staring him down with his creepy smile, carefully winding an arm around the boy's waist and tugging him against himself. The smaller form shivered but remained as calm as he possibly could, stealing a glance into Gin's eyes as the man cracked them open a sliver.

"Did I cause it?" He asked innocently. "Did ya wake up sore today, Izuru?"

"Hai."

The fox-like captain chuckled and leaned down to peck a light kiss against Kira's forehead, letting go of him afterwards and walking away to the broad, curtainless window.

"Sousuke was askin' about ya this mornin'." He said nonchalantly, as if the bespectacled captain did it all the time. "He was wonderin' why ya weren't in yet to make my tea and get the paperwork sorted."

The blond admitted defeat by bowing politely and accepted the wording as a suggestion for him to get his backside in gear, shifting himself to his desk and beginning to sort the division's massive amount of basic paperwork. He kept an ear open for anything the elder man might say or ask, aware of just how angry the man could get if he was ignored. The tea situation, organized by Ichimaru when he had come in that morning, was something Kira had noticed upon his arrival. The room smelled of jasmine and honey. Two scents he never associated with his feral taichou.

"Good boy." Came the third captain's soft voice, sounding lilted, as if he were daydreaming.

Izuru lifted his head and acknowledged his suspicion, watching with a saddened and partly relieved gaze as the silver haired shinigami peered out into the courtyard, sighing softly into the humid morning air. The days of his absolute loyalty had passed ages ago and to Kira, it seemed as if his captain's mask of a demanding, perfected leader was peeling away, ready to crumble to the ground with a ceramic clatter. He couldn't help but think it had to do with the brunet taichou that was so often mentioned in passing during their conversations. Even the overheard words from past chats haunted him, like dreams he never woke from.

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"He's not good enough to be an ally, Gin." Aizen spoke with barely concealed malice, though his voice remained calm and collected.

Before him stood the third division captain, all smiles and cheerful nature, though his own demeanor suggested anger and slight loathing. He was mad at the fifth leader for suggesting that his trained pet, one Kira Izuru, wasn't good enough to include in their plans for betrayal and dominance of Soul Society. The younger man snorted softly as they ducked into his private office, closing the door behind him and immediately feeling a strong sense of reiatsu crush against his slim form.

"He's a good boy, Sousuke. He's not gonna cause any problem, long as we include him. Izuru's lost without me."

The press grew stronger until Ichimaru was forced to cower slightly, gritting his teeth against the headache the elder man's spirit energy caused. Once seeing the smaller body bow even the slightest bit, Aizen backed off and smiled, happy to see the effect he had on his former subordinate.

"He's a liability. Leave him here when we go. I won't have you causing a scene when I finally execute the final stage."

The younger captain hesitated for a brief second and then nodded, ashamed of himself for being so beaten down by the other and yet happy to be of such importance that Aizen didn't simply ask him to stay behind as well.

"Can I go now? Izuru's gonna be finished soon and I wanna make sure he doesn't come sneakin' around to listen to us."

The blond gasped as he heard the direct reference to what he was currently doing and in a split second, had shifted from the shoji door and returned to his desk, pretending to write on a blank sheet when the two men finally emerged. His heart was pounding hard enough that he was sure his taichou would hear it.

"Hona sainara." Gin spoke softly, ushering the elder man to the main office door. Aizen leaned in and whispered something into the normally cheery shinigami's ear, causing Ichimaru to open his eyes in shock, the spike in his reiatsu felt by the boy but not mentioned out of respect. The shoji door was quietly slid back into place after the fifth captain left and Gin turned suddenly to look upon the 'working' boy, a smile creeping back onto his face until it nearly reached his ears.

"Naa, Izuru. Did ya finish all the work for the day?"

The boy nodded and tapped the top of a rather large pile with the clean end of his brush. "It all requires your signature, Ichimaru-taichou. The most important documents are on the top, while the daily routine reports are at the bottom."

The speech seemed scripted to him as he said it, swallowing firmly once finishing and looking up into the other man's eyes. He thought he saw a flicker of something in them but it was gone when he tried to catch it again, only seeing Gin's mask sliding neatly back into place for the umpteenth time that day. Mentally, he cursed the bastard fifth captain again, no doubt earning himself a shallow place in Hell for his insubordinance on such a daily basis.

According to Aizen, who had a stronger sense of power than Ichimaru, and who could sense spirit energy as far away as twelve miles in any direction, the blond _had_ been listening in on their conversation and he _had_ heard everything. His changing reiatsu was obvious to the glasses-toting shinigami and despite his anger with Gin for not noticing, he had told his former fukutaichou the truth, hoping that it would change his mind on where he kept Kira on his personal totem pole.

Ichimaru walked away from the door, making an outward show of being convinced that the boy wasn't lying, despite the fact that Kira most certainly _was. _He occupied the sun-warmed tatami mat behind his desk for more than four hours that day, watching the blond carefully.

Kira made not one mistake or slip-up that would suggest he had done anything wrong. His ignorance of the entire situation humoured the third division captain and after having enough of his little charade, he put his head down and snoozed for a little while, happy in his little nest of deceit.

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As always, he cleared the thought out of his mind and went on working, sniffing the honeyed air and shaking his hand as the constant writing cramped his fingers. He knew of the betrayal hanging over Seireitei and yet he did nothing to warn others, so afraid as he was to lose what little connection he had with his beloved captain.

_Be a good boy,_ he once told himself. _Work hard and do your best so things like that never happen to you again. If you can be strong, no one will ever take you down. Your loyalty does not equal your dignity. _


End file.
